Kingdom Come
by Sara Wolfe
Summary: After King Howard and Queen Maria are killed, the kingdom falls to their young son, Tony. But someone doesn't want the young prince to take his rightful throne.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Written for the cap_im Reverse Big Bang. Inspired by art by lei-sam.

* * *

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a king, and queen, and their young son. King Howard and Queen Maria were regarded as wise and benevolent leaders, and Anthony, their only child, was known to be an intelligent, vivacious boy.

Howard, an avid inventor, could usually be found working on improvements to the kingdom's roads and bridges, or building what Maria affectionately called his "fiddly, little gizmos". Maria spent her time working in the orphanages and the healing houses, and she often took Anthony with her. The King and Queen were beloved by their people. They were, by all accounts, the perfect family.

But all was not well.

When Anthony was just ten years old, Howard and Maria went on a trip to visit a neighboring kingdom. They never came home. The young boy waited for days, staring out the window into the endless rain, tears streaming down his cheeks. His world had shattered, his life changed forever. Nothing would ever be the same.

But, life goes on, as it must. Anthony was taken in by his father's adviser, Duke Obadiah, who raised Anthony like he would his own son. The Duke, who Anthony affectionately called Obie, was a hard, unyielding man, but he was all Anthony had, and the boy adored him. As the years passed, he became known as the Duke's shadow, learning the ways of the kingdom at Obie's hand.

Anthony, himself, grew into a strong, brilliant young man. His mind much like his late father's, Anthony could often be found deep in his basement laboratory, tinkering with his inventions - especially when he was supposed to be dealing with other matters. He was content to leave the running of the kingdom to Obie (that was what his Regent was for, after all) while he lurked in the background. He was insistent on having as much fun as he could while he still had the time. For upon his twenty-first birthday, the kingdom would become his, and his alone.

* * *

"Tony, if you don't hurry up, we're going to be late."

Tony shot his best friend and impish grin. "Relax, Rhodey," he drawled. "What are you worried about? That we're going to miss the festivities? Things are hardly going to start without us there."

"Being late is disrespectful," Rhodey lectured, sternly.

"Which is why you have us leaving two hours early," Tony countered, unruffled by the other man's tone. "Rhodey? Relax and try to have fun, won't you? Do it as a favor to me?"

He gave Rhodey the puppy-dog look that (usually) always got him his way when the two of them fought. But this time, Rhodey was unmoved.

"I am the captain of your personal guard," he snapped, "and as such, your safety is my first concern. You're going to be twenty-one in less than a week-"

"And assassins are lurking around every corner, I know." Tony sighed, shooting Rhodey a look. "Can you stop being paranoid for all of two seconds. No one is going to try to kill me before the coronation. They love me too much."

"I wish you'd take the risks to your life more seriously," Rhodey scolded, but the heat was gone from his voice. Years of being Tony's best friend had taught him to pick his battles, and clearly he was starting to recognize that this was one he wasn't going to win.

"I take the risks to my life very seriously," Tony assured him. "When there are risks. Rhodey, we're going down to the village with a dozen of the best fighters in the guard. This is a trip I make ever single year, to help celebrate the harvest. My parents made this trip when they were alive, and they were fine. And so am I. Nothing is going to happen. I promise. Besides, Pepper's been planning this for weeks, and if I miss it, she'll kill me and save the assassins the trouble."

Rhodey still looked far from convinced, but he finally sighed, conceding the argument. Tony grinned in triumph, accepting his horse's reins from the groom that brought the gelding over. He swung up into the saddle, waiting until Rhodey had mounted his own horse, and then he grinned at his best friend.

"Race you to the gate," he challenged, spurring his horse into a quick gallop down the lane. Behind him, he could hear Rhodey's frustrated shout, and he kept his horse to a moderate pace out of deference to the other man. Reaching the far palace gate where the rest of the guard were waiting, he pulled his mount to a stop and waited for Rhodey to catch up. The other man was scowling when he pulled up alongside Tony.

"If the assassins don't get you," he threatened, darkly, "I will."

* * *

Hours later, after the festivities had ended and night had fallen, Tony rode squarely in the middle of the group as they headed back to the castle. His earlier words to Rhodey, aside, he was more than aware of the possibility of being attacked before his coronation, and he was going to do whatever it took to stay alive. Obie had certainly being reminding him of it, often enough in the past few months. There were people who would gladly see him dead before he could ever be crowned king, and Tony had no intention of letting them win.

So, he rode quietly in the middle of the group, letting his guards form a protective barrier around him. He hated knowing that others were putting their lives at risk for him, but they were doing exactly what they'd trained to do. Besides, Rhodey had threatened more than once that evening to knock him unconscious and stuff him in a sack if he didn't cooperate on the return trip. Tony was still picking burlap out of his teeth from the last time he hadn't believed one of Rhodey's threats.

They were deep in the heart of the forest when they heard the first sound. A bird called in the distance, which didn't seem unusual, but one of the younger soldiers called for an immediate halt. His face was set in grim lines.

"Problem, Barton?" Rhodey asked, riding back to the other man.

"Yes, sir," Barton said, quietly, his voice so low that Tony could only just hear him. "That's a wood thrush. They don't sing at night."

"So why is this one?" Rhodey mused, quietly. "Good ear, soldier."

"Thank you, sir." Barton moved back to his previous position, at Tony's left flank, his eyes constantly scanning the scenery around them.

At Rhodey's gesture, the rest of the guard tightened ranks around Tony. They moved steadily through the forest, keeping a wary eye out for danger. Everything was quiet for a few minutes, and then another bird sounded. Tony glanced over at Barton at the same time as Rhodey, seeing the younger man minutely shaking his head.

"Double time," Rhodey ordered, brusquely. "I want to get-"

He never got to finish his sentence. Something huge and hairy burst out of the trees, and one of the horses screamed as it was dragged to the ground. The rider rolled away from his fallen mount, only for the beast to drag him backwards, claws slicing through armor like butter. Another soldier leaped from his mount, to his partner's defense, but he was swatted aside like a gnat. Tony tightened his grip on his reins, stilling his horse when the terrified animal tried to bolt.

"Tony, get out of here!" Rhodey bellowed, unsheathing his sword. "Barton, with the prince!"

"Highness, this way," Barton said, an urgent tone in his voice as he grabbed the reins of Tony's horse, forcibly leading the frightened animal away from the rest of the group.

"You should stay with the rest of the guard," Tony said, but Barton stubbornly shook his head.

"No," he said, bluntly. "Captain told me to stay with you, that's what I'm going to do. And in this kind of situation, his command outranks yours. No offense, Highness."

Tony wanted to argue, but he held his tongue. Arguing wouldn't do any good, and the sooner they got out of there, the sooner he could convince Barton that he was safe and that the other man should return and help his fellow soldiers. He urged his horse forward, after Barton, the two of them moving swiftly through the trees.

The forest was quickly becoming darker and darker, and it was getting harder to see Barton ahead of him. So, it took him a moment to realize that Barton's horse had stopped moving, the riderless animal looking around in confusion. Tony grabbed for the horse's reins as he stopped.

"Barton!" he snapped, worried.

He hadn't seen anything, hadn't heard anything to suggest that anything had happened to the younger man. Barton had just vanished.

Hearing a quiet groan from behind him, he turned around to see Barton sprawled out in the middle of the path. He was barely moving. Tony jumped down and ran to the other man's side, helping the groggy man sit up.

"What happened?" he demanded, and Barton shook his head in confusion.

"I don't know," he admitted, his words slurring, slightly. "One second, I was still on my horse, the next, I'm lying on the ground. Something hit me-"

Tony glanced up, automatically, his lips tightening into a scowl when he saw a trip wire strung across two trees. The wire was at a height to catch a man in the chest as he rode past. It was only luck that the trip wire had only caught Barton, as Tony had been crouched over his mount's neck when he'd passed under it.

"Can you stand?" Tony asked, quietly, even as he pulled Barton to his feet. "We're in danger, here."

"I can ride, Highness," Barton told him, although he was swaying unsteadily on his feet.

He moved determinedly toward his horse, putting a foot in the stirrup to swing back into the saddle. He had just boosted himself into the air when something flew through the air, slamming into his armor with a dull thud. Barton lurched forward, slumping over his horse's back and falling off to land heavily on the ground, a heavy crossbow quiver lying on the ground beside him. Tony swore under his breath as he moved to where the other man lay.

He never made it.

Something leaped out of the shadows, knocking him to the ground when it hit him. Tony lashed out, instinctively, his hand slamming into something hard and unyielding. The heavy weight pinned him easily to the ground, and a damp, sweet-smelling cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose, held in place despite his struggles to get free. He was trapped, and he couldn't escape.

Tony rolled his eyes to the side, seeing another shadowy figure standing over Barton's body. The man kicked out, his foot catching Barton in the head. The younger man didn't even flinch at the contact. Tony burned with fury at the thought of the brave, young soldier dying for him. He fought harder to get away from his captor, or at least to get his mouth free so that he could yell for help. But the man pinning him to the ground hit him on the side of the head to keep him from moving, pressing the wet rag further into his nostrils. Tony couldn't do anything but breathe whatever substance the cloth had been dipped in.

He couldn't get enough air, and his lungs burned like he was drowning. Black spots danced in front of his eyes, and the world started to go dark. He lashed out again in a last, desperate attempt to free himself, but the blast of pain that shot up his arm indicated that he'd probably only succeeded in breaking his hand.

"Just give up," a low voice growled in his ear, breath tickling the side of his face. "You could make this so much easier on yourself if you just stopped fighting."

Tony wanted to protest that he didn't know the meaning of the word easy. But, he was having trouble forming coherent thoughts. His vision was going black. And the last thing he heard before succumbing to the darkness was a low, cruel laugh...


	2. Chapter 2

Tony woke up alone. There was no sign of his captors in the cold, dank cave he was being held in, but a shimmering blue force field kept him imprisoned. The only other sign of life was an old man slumped unconscious at the back of the cave. Tony initially thought he was dead, but he managed to find a faint pulse on the old man's neck.

Tony started out measuring the time in hours. He estimated at least one for the time he'd been unconscious, and started counting from the moment he woke up. After five hours, he gave up on any of the soldiers having survived the attack to follow his abductors. After ten, he started doubting a rescue coming from the castle. After eighty-five hours, he started counting the days.

He tallied the days in scratch marks on the wall. The days grew into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years. Tony rarely saw his captors; he spent most of his time in the cave he'd first woken up in. His only companion was his fellow captive Ho Yinsen, a tinker. His only break in the monotony was when his captors stormed in, tied a bag over his head, and tortured him.

He lost track of time during the torture sessions.

For the most part, his captors didn't seem to want to permanently injure him; they only seemed interested in inflicting the most amount of pain with a minimum of damage. But, that didn't mean there weren't accidents. Tony lost count of the scars that peppered his chest and torso, couldn't even remember all the tortures that gave him the scars.

But, try as he might, he couldn't forget the worst one. The memory was etched like crystal in his mind. He remembered his captors coming into the cave, remembered the rough bag being dragged over his head. Remembered the shock of the freezing-cold water that they held him under. Remembered black spots exploding in front of his eyes as his lungs ran out of air.

Then, pain. Knives, and fire, and hands that held him down when he struggled to get away. A fiery weight that settled in his chest. Yinsen's gentle, soothing voice that broke through the agony. And then more darkness.

The next time he woke up, it was almost two weeks later. He was lying on a pile of damp, foul-smelling blankets.

Tony tried to sit up, even made it a couple of inches before the world started to spin in front of his eyes. He let out an involuntary whimper, fighting back the urge to be violently sick. He had a feeling that it would be a bad idea. He thought that he was alone, but a few seconds after he sat up, Yinsen materialized from out of thin air, pushing him back down onto the filthy blankets.

"You shouldn't be moving," Yinsen scolded him, holding him down with one hand. It didn't take a lot of effort on the older man's part.

"What happened?" Tony asked, surprised at how weak his voice sounded.

"You were...injured," Yinsen told him. "It seems that our captors were a little too enthusiastic in their endeavors."

"You mean they tried to torture me to death," Tony croaked out. The cave was still spinning around him, and he closed his eyes to block out the sight. "Why am I still alive? I doubt they were kind enough to save my life."

"I saved your life," Yinsen told him, and Tony blinked, looking at the older man in surprise. "In another life, I worked as a healer."

"Well, thanks," Tony said, as he settled back down. He shifted, trying to get comfortable, and then he flinched when something dragged painfully at his chest. "What the hell?"

He dragged a hand up his torso until his fingers hit a small, hard thing protruding from his chest, almost directly over his heart. He traced smooth, rounded edges, and when he tapped the object with a fingernail, a clear note rang out like he'd just struck glass.

"What is this?" he asked, trying not to panic. It wasn't easy; there was a foreign object buried in his chest. It took all of his self control not to dig it out with his bare hands.

Yinsen sighed, the deep lines on his face making him look decades older than he really was. "You were badly injured," he repeated, quietly. "I had to take certain measures to save your life."

"What kind of measures?" Tony asked, wondering why the other man was being so evasive.

Something sorrowful flashed across Yinsen's face. "A heartstone," he finally answered. "I had to use a dragon's heartstone to keep yours beating."

And now Tony understood why Yinsen had been so hesitant to tell him the truth. Heartstones were immensely powerful and valuable. Before his father had enacted laws against it, the great creatures had been nearly hunted to extinction. Now, possession of a heartstone was punishable by death, a law that Tony was bound by his very position to uphold. And he had one buried in his chest.

"I did not steal the stone," Yinsen hastened to assure him, probably seeing the uneasy look on Tony's face. "I came across a dying drake in my travels. I saved the she-dragon's eggs, and she gifted me with her heartstone, in return. It was freely given, I swear to you."

Tony nodded, slumping wearily back against the blankets. He wasn't likely to have to worry about the law, at any rate. In all the time he'd been held captive, there had never been any indication that his captors had even tried to seek a ransom from Obie. He was going to die, here.

* * *

Tony had counted out over a thousand days in the cave when the hooded man came for him. The man didn't speak to him directly, he just gestured to the pair of guards accompanying him to grab Tony and drag him out of the cave. Tony was slung unceremoniously over the back of a horse, tied down with rough rope to keep him from falling. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yinsen being treated to the same manhandling, and then a bag was shoved over Tony's head, blinding him.

They traveled for almost an hour before the horses stopped, and Tony found himself being dragged off the horse and dumped to the ground. A hard hand grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him to his feet, and then he was forcibly marched forward.

Soft sand shifted under his feet. It got colder the longer he walked; he figured they were moving underground, or deep into another cave. He could hear the shuffling sounds of Yinsen walking behind him, but he could also hear a more distant sound of metal striking metal, a sound that got louder the further they moved.

Around a corner, and then Tony felt himself being jerked to a stop. The area they were in was far warmer than the rest of their surroundings, and the clanging sounds were much closer. The man that had Tony's arms restrained behind his back jerked the bag off his head, yanking out a hank of hair in the process. Tony blinked at the sudden rush of light.

They were standing in the middle of a smithy. It wasn't as busy as Tony would have expected, given the size of the space they were standing in. A glowing forge stood in the middle of the space, surrounded by mostly-empty worktables. Only a few tables were being used, and they were occupied by people who barely looked capable of lifting their tools, let alone work on the elaborate pieces of armor he could see being constructed.

"What am I doing here?" Tony demanded, even though he could certainly guess. A throat cleared beside him, and he glanced over at Yinsen. "We," he amended. "What are we doing here?"

The hooded man was the one who answered him. "If I am going to be stuck with you, _Prince_," he sneered, turning the word into a curse, "you are going to be useful to me. You will make armor and weapons for my army."

"And why, exactly, would I do that?" Tony asked, but he trailed off at the sight of the knife that appeared in one of the guard's hands, resting against Yinsen's throat.

"You will work," the hooded man informed him, "or I will kill the old man. And then I will dump you back in that hole I fished you out of, to let the rats eat you alive."

With that pronouncement, he turned on his heel and glided smoothly away. The man holding Tony gave him a rough shove, sending him stumbling across the sand. Tony caught himself on a table, turning to see the guards taking up a position at the entrance to the cavern.

"Well," Yinsen said, glancing over at him, "it would appear that we are now in the weapons business."


End file.
